


What A Relief

by Asauna



Series: Sherlock Drabbles [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pink Phone, Post-Reichenbach, Precious, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asauna/pseuds/Asauna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Goes along to a photoset floating around tumblr, where John finds a heart-shaped parcel on his desk with a mobile in it on Valentines day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What A Relief

John didn’t often partake in holidays anymore. He didn’t answer the phone when Harry wished him Merry Christmas or Happy Birthday. He didn’t notice the drunken Irishmen downtown, nor did he pay mind to the children running around in costumes. It was the third year since the day that had torn his world inside-out, and he was slowly getting better. He had done well into the second year, finding a job and even meeting a girl if you could believe that. But then suddenly, everything fell to pieces once more as he saw a man that.. That resembled Sherlock. Wore a coat like his, held the same stride, and yet, he had never actually seen the man up close. As awkward as it might have been for the doctor to admit, he’d chased him down four blocks until he’d lost sight of the stranger. He had wanted to see just to prove to himself that it wasn’t Sherlock and that he was hallucinating again. But without the chance, he never was able to give himself a proper answer.

He’d noticed all of the love birds this year, and shy children walking hand-in-hand down the street. He’d noticed the excessive flowers and cards that would surely be in the garbage by the end of the week for being nothing more than clutter. He was coming in from the shop, wanting to get out of the house today. Some days he could do so much as to merely get out of bed. Others, he’d venture all the way out to Sherlock’s grave and spend the day with him there. Today though, as he shrugged off his coat, he turned his head towards the kitchen where he was half-contemplating a cuppa. But upon the table where Sherlock’s experiments had called home until Mrs. Hudson boxed everything away in the deceased man’s bedroom, he saw a heart-shaped box. “Mrs. Hudson.” He sighed, shaking his head as he wandered over to the box of chocolate. 

His finger touched over the side and he took a second before actually opening, though when he had, his body was frozen. There was no chocolate or small stuffed creature within, but rather, a memory that haunted him. Within was an iPhone 3G with the familiar silicone pink case. Why would this even be here? It couldn’t be here? Lestrade wouldn’t have done this, nor would Mrs. Hudson. He was frozen, having a stare-down with the phone for longer than he would ever like to admit, hesitantly reaching for it as he dreaded the worse. What if somehow, Moriarty was still around? What if there was someone like him even that had heard of what happened? He didn’t want to do this anymore. He didn’t want to deal with any more pain, he just couldn’t.

Slowly he hit the home button, brows knitting together at the black background used with his name upon it, telling him to check the messages. Looked like something one could draw in an application, almost. With a trembling thumb, he dragged the slider to unlock the phone, making his way to the texting application at the bottom that showed it had 50 unread messages. His heart raced and deafened his ears, still unsure what to expect. As per usual, he was dreading the worst. And this time ‘round, he had no Sherlock to help. He was on his own this time, and he doubted he could do anything without the consulting detective. 

But realization hit him like a brick wall as he scrolled to the top of the messages, his throat burning in the back of his throat. 

**I miss you, John. –SH  
Don’t buy that brand, it will make you sick. –SH  
Lonely Dinner? –SH  
It’s raining tonight. Close all of the windows. –SH  
Did Mrs. Hudson throw out my microscope? –SH  
We should really do something about your limp. –SH  
Lavender tea might help with the nightmares. I’ll see if I can have Mycroft send you some. –SH  
…**

A hand clasped over his mouth, tears forming in his eyes as he staggered back against the wall, the tears he’d held for when alone quickly falling from his eyes. Everything within him span and twisted, unsure as to what to do or think at this very moment. He’d been right this whole time. People had been telling him that he was crazy, or trying to urge him to forget about Sherlock, but these were his texts, right here! He was alive, so very, very alive. Oh, he’d kick that man’s arse when he saw him. He’d make him pay for tormenting John like this. So many sleepless nights, and so many times he thought of doing things that.. He would never admit to. He only hadn’t because of Lestrade, and a talk they’d had in a pub one night.

He continued, reading the texts that tore at his heart and brought the greatest amount of joy one human being could perhaps experience. Sherlock, his Sherlock Holmes was alive. He was out there, safe as could be. But something made him pause. Why was he given this phone suddenly..? What if something happened and this was perhaps Sherlock’s way of saying goodbye? The joy in him hit a snag and he paused, looking down to the phone that had become wet from the tears that rolled over the hand that covered his mouth, hoping as much as he could that the sudden idea was wrong. 

**There’s a new Chinese shop around the corner. –SH  
I almost ran into you today. I should be more careful about that. –SH  
Mycroft said Lestrade told him you and he had a talk. I’m glad you’re okay now. –SH  
You should be eating more. Well, aren’t I a hypocrite? –SH  
I miss your tea. –SH  
Hanged, not hung, John. When will you get that right? –SH  
… **

The tears fell more as he hit the last text,

**Do you miss me, John? -SH**

And he slowly began to feel his legs tremble beneath his weight, chest tightening as the hand from his mouth lowered and wrapped around his midsection. “Yes, Sherlock. More than you could ever understand.” He breathed out, pressing the phone to his forehead, feeling as though he was going to lose balance. It was why he was pressed against the wall. But, just as he began to slide down, the impossible happened and slowly he brought the phone into view, seeing that there was a new text message.

He opened it, hesitantly since he wasn’t sure what to expect, lips trembling as he quickly dropped the phone and tried to push himself up as fast as he could, flinging himself down the steps of the flat as quickly as possible without falling without the use of his cane. He tugged the door open, eyes widening as that of a child as he suddenly stilled, looking over the familiar pale face with that rare, honest grin that he’d seen perhaps twice in his time of knowing the consulting detective. 

“Sherlock,” John breathed, quickly stepping forward and more or less falling into the larger man, arms wrapping around him as if to make sure that he was truly there.

**Happy Valentines day, John. Open the door for me. –SH**


End file.
